


Who doesn't have a crush on their teacher?

by tissaias_piglet



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Lesbians, Modern AU, inappropriate crush on a teacher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tissaias_piglet/pseuds/tissaias_piglet
Summary: When Triss offers to give a school careers talk as a favour to a friend of a friend, she has no idea she'll end up reconnecting with her ex-tutor, Tissaia de Vries. Her ridiculously huge crush on Tissaia never went away, it seems, and now Triss is older and a (semi) functional and successful adult, there's no reason why she can't seduce Tissaia, right?
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries & Sabrina Glevissig, Tissaia de Vries & Triss Merigold, Triss Merigold & Sabrina Glevissig
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for joining me on what's inevitably going to be another wild ride, because I have no idea where this fic is going. There's currently no relationship listed, but that might change. The rating may also increase because let's face it, I can't write anything without smut :)

Triss wondered why she hadn’t put more effort into her appearance. It wasn’t exactly that she looked bad (at least, Philippa had smacked her ass approvingly on her way out of the house, if that was to be taken as a compliment), but she definitely could have stood to look a bit more professional. She thought that wearing jeans and a T-shirt would make her more relatable to the students, but it was quickly becoming clear – as she watched the side-eye and judgement she was getting from the impeccably-dressed office staff – that she was giving off the wrong impression. Well, it was too late now.

Perhaps when Yenna had told her she needed to get out more, she hadn’t meant giving a careers talk to a bunch of disinterested teenagers as a favour to a friend of a friend.

Triss got up and walked to the window, carefully making sure she was hidden behind a row of horrible plastic chairs from her thighs downwards. She smiled to herself as she worked a little magic, her footsteps tapping smartly on the floor as she walked back to her seat. The office staff stared in absolute, naked disbelief, unable to understand how she was wearing incredibly expensive designer shoes when a moment ago she’d been wearing battered old trainers.

Triss looked down at her new shoes and smirked to herself. There was something incredibly sexy about the shine of black patent shoes, and the heels, and the sharp sound her footsteps made on the floor. It was almost enough to arouse her. Equally nice – if not nicer – shoes emerged into her field of vision, and a warm, low voice met her ears before she had time to look up.

“Thank you so much for coming, Miss– I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“It’s M–” she began, but the words died in her mouth as she looked up into the face of Tissaia de Vries. “It's Merigold. Triss Merigold, but I think you already knew that,” Triss grinned. The old rush of teenage lustful adoration was still there, but she tried to push it away and be a responsible, functional adult.

Tissaia's mouth fell open, before a wide, genuine smile bloomed on her face. She opened her arms to Triss, and Triss stepped into them, hugging her ex-tutor hard. “Look at you!” Tissaia breathed, with not a small amount of pride, as she pulled back, tenderly brushing a lock of chestnut hair back from Triss' face. The girl looked older, at ease, happier, and vastly more self-confident.

Triss felt heat flooding her face. She would have given anything to be touched like that by Tissaia when she was a student, and it still had just as much of an effect on her as it would have done then. She had lost all ability to speak coherently. Fortunately she didn’t need to explain to Tissaia why she was there, so it gave her precious seconds to try and remind herself how to talk.

“It’s so great to see you!” Triss said, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. Tissaia had a wonderful knack for being able to make anyone feel instantly happy and at ease (even if they were overwhelmed by how attractive she was). She desperately hoped that Tissaia would touch her face again, even though she knew it wouldn’t be appropriate. She felt like a teenager again, but this time, they weren’t bound by any kind of rules – if she wanted Tissaia, she could do something about it.

Triss mentally shook herself. She wasn’t at a speed dating event! And anyway, there was precisely zero evidence that Tissaia felt the same way about her. Even now, what was there to see in her? Tissaia could have anyone, she didn’t need to settle for an ex-student who was deep in university debt and barely making ends meet, Triss thought savagely.

“Come with me,” Tissaia said, sensing none of Triss’ internal resentment and self-hatred, taking her arm, seeming unable to stop smiling, “we have a few minutes before the students finish their lunch. I want to hear all about you and what you’ve been doing!”

Triss could feel unfriendly eyes boring into her back. Apparently Tissaia could too, for she turned around, glaring at the office staff. “Back to work, Fringilla, this isn’t a social gathering,” she snapped. Triss felt her knees go weak. She credited the contrast between Tissaia’s sunny nature and her strictness with the reason why she had both a praise kink and a humiliation kink. Not that she was planning on bringing up her kinks as part of telling Tissaia what she’d done since graduating.

She followed Tissaia down a corridor, slightly mesmerised by the sight and sound of her heels tapping on the floor. It had been years, and she hadn’t changed in the slightest, except to look a little older, which just made her infinitely more sexy.

“Standing up in front of teenagers and talking to them about yourself isn’t really something I’d have pictured you doing,” Tissaia began, leaning against her desk in that (unconsciously sexy) teachery way which Triss remembered so well.

Triss looked a little sheepish as she replied. “I agreed to it as a favour to a friend of a friend. I’m definitely regretting it now though.” She went to scuff her trainers nervously on the floor, then remembered the heels she was wearing and just barely managed to stop herself, sitting down to try and ease the temptation.

Tissaia gave her a soft, caring look, resting her hand on Triss’ arm, before changing her mind, and embracing the younger woman reassuringly. Triss bit her lip, trying not to whimper. She needed to control herself and act like a reasonable adult, not a child. It was embarrassing, even if Tissaia had, by some miracle, failed to notice.

Eventually they broke apart, and Tissaia began to speak, but Triss could barely hear what she was saying. She was mesmerised by Tissaia’s lips. Although she knew the moment would quickly come where she had to admit that she hadn’t been listening, she couldn’t help dragging it out for a minute or two longer. She was ashamed to realise that all of her old bad habits concerning Tissaia were very much still with her.

As a student, she would waste entire lectures just staring at Tissaia, neither listening nor making notes, then have to bribe Sheala with alcohol for a copy of her notes. And for what? What had she gotten from inadvertently sabotaging her own education because of some vague hope that she could seduce her teacher?

Then there was the question of what exactly Tissaia would want with a disappointing 21 year old. She’d want someone who was her equal, someone who had experience of life. She’d imagined the shame of Tissaia talking about her real, grown-up problems, and only being able to match them with vague complaints about the difficulty of her essays, and stories of pathetic drunken escapades with her friends. Quietly, secretly, Triss had always known that she would never be enough for Tissaia, no matter how much she fantasised about it.

But now? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps she could be enough, but one thing was for sure – she needed to invite Tissaia to spend some time with her outside of the school environment. She could dress up, arm herself with stories about her job, in short, do everything to make Tissaia see her as more than just an ex-student.

“Triss?” Tissaia asked, sounding a little concerned, and before Triss could admit she hadn’t been paying attention, Tissaia carried on, “it’s okay to be nervous. You’re going to be okay. I was just asking what you like to do when you’re not working.”

Triss thought it wise to leave out the part about hooking up with dark-haired women who were smaller than her and extremely dominant in the bedroom. The last thing she needed was to admit that she only ever dated women who looked and acted like Tissaia. Her mind raced as she tried to think of something neutral yet interesting, and which didn’t make her sound like she spent all of her time alone in her bedroom. “I paint a lot,” she answered after a minute, “and I still love my plants. Legal ones now,” she added with a smile, and Tissaia smiled back. It had been an open secret just what kind of plants Triss had tried (and succeeded in) growing when she was a student. “And I spend a lot of time chatting to people online.”

“Really?” Tissaia asked with a slight raise of her eyebrow. Triss remembered her fondly as a complete technophobe, and she wondered whether Tissaia had mastered Skype or WhatsApp yet.

She couldn’t help smiling at Tissaia’s confusion. “Yeah, it’s really interesting. I talk to people from all over the world. I have a friend in Ireland who tells me stories about her job in an art gallery, a friend in Belgium whose parents have forced her into a Classics degree when all she wants to do is work with children. I talk to them all about different things. The friend I talk to about 1940s cinema isn’t the same friend I talk to Russian literature, or the one I talk to about sex toys.” Triss blushed furiously, realising too late who she was talking to. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Tissaia waved it off, without seeming the slightest bit embarrassed. “We’re all adults here,” she smiled, and then, more softly, “and is there anyone special?”

The delicate, almost shy, way she phrased the question made Triss’ heart beat so fast that it felt almost like she was vibrating. “No,” she replied, even more quietly, as though Tissaia was a tiny butterfly which had landed on her outstretched fingers, and to speak too loudly would be to scare her away. She hoped upon hope that Tissaia was asking for a reason more than just hoping her ex-student was happy and loved.

There was a pause, a silence which dragged on just a little too long to be entirely comfortable. It was clear that Triss had misread the question, blinded by her own pathetic dreams. She felt the desperate need to explain herself.

“I…” she considered her words. If this was her only chance to show Tissaia that she was available, and there was nothing to fear from her friends online, she needed to make it count. “I’m in love with the version of myself I could be with each of them. When I talk to my friend in France, I imagine myself carrying fresh flowers back to our tiny Parisian apartment, maybe stopping at a flea market on the way and picking up a cracked antique mirror in a beautiful frame. My friend in Italy makes me think about working in a tiny bookstore, and falling slowly in love with her over a stiflingly hot summer when she’s bringing in books to sell from a deceased relation’s house clearance. I can be running barefoot through wide open American fields, wearing a white sundress, hand in hand with a girl who will pull me down into the grass and kiss me until our lips are sore, or curled up beneath a checked blanket, wearing a striped jumper and long knitted scarf, sharing a paper cup of hot cider with a girl as we watch the fireworks on Bonfire Night. But no, I’m not in love with any of them.”

Tissaia looked almost shocked, as though Triss’ words had been a mesmerising story which had ended too soon, leaving her off-balance. “That was beautiful,” she said softly, looking into Triss’ eyes as she reached out and touched her cheek lightly. This time, Triss was ready for it, and she smiled graciously, nevertheless grateful that she was sat down.

Their intense eye contact was interrupted by the sound of the classroom door opening, and Triss jumped as though she’d been caught doing something wrong. “Tissaia, do you have the lesson plans for- oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting!”

Triss marvelled again at the way Tissaia’s soft, easy smile could put anyone at ease. “You’re fine, Sabrina,” Tissaia said, “they’re just on my desk there.” She stood up, still smiling, and even though the smile wasn’t for Triss, she still felt weak. And jealous. “This is Triss, she’s here for the careers talk.”

It took a moment, but Triss realised she’d actually have to make an effort to tear her eyes away from Tissaia and actually turn around and at least smile at Sabrina. With some reluctance – for she had a perfect view of Tissaia’s legs, and precious seconds to appreciate the view while Tissaia was distracted – she made herself turn around. “Hi,” she said simply. All the other words in the English language seemed to have deserted her, because Sabrina was indescribably pretty.

Was it her imagination, or did Sabrina give Tissaia some kind of coded look of understanding? No, it was definitely her imagination.

“Hey!” Sabrina smiled brightly back, “it’s great to meet you! Tissaia has told me so much.”

Triss’ head whipped back to Tissaia, who betrayed only the slightest hint of embarrassment, a tiny frown line appearing momentarily between her eyebrows. “Sabrina is a trainee teacher,” she explained smoothly, all traces of discomfort gone, “I’ve shared a lot of stories with her about my experiences. Your classmates feature heavily in my advice on how to deal with unruly students.”

Triss snorted a laugh. “You mean Philippa and Sheala? Yeah, that figures.” She looked back to Sabrina, with something of a smirk on her face. “I dearly hope that you have many good years of teaching and never encounter anything like Philippa Eilhart and Sheala de Tancarville.” Although, the idea of Sabrina pink-cheeked with anger was a surprisingly nice one. She looked as though she could be fierce when she was pissed off, and Triss thought she would strangely like to be on the receiving end of that anger.

The sound of the bell interrupted her thoughts, Sabrina left hastily with a broad smile in lieu of a goodbye, and Triss was left alone with Tissaia for all of 30 seconds, before a classful of disinterested teenagers came sloping into the room. As much as she was happy to have reconnected with Tissaia, at that moment she was regretting every life choice she’d made which had led her to that moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to part 2 of this wild ride where I have no idea what the storyline is going to be, so whatever happens next will be as much of a surprise to me as it is to you :)

It was bad enough that Tissaia had sat – legs neatly crossed, her gaze never leaving Triss’ – at the back of the class as Triss talked, but halfway through, Sabrina the Impossibly Pretty Trainee Teacher, as Triss had christened her, had also crept in to listen. Somehow, in spite of the dual distraction and her general terror, she’d managed to not only get through the talk, but keep the children relatively engaged. Tissaia’s encouraging smiles had done nothing to help her though; all they’d succeeded in doing was stealing her words every time.

“Well done!” Tissaia said proudly, embracing her tightly once the last students had left the classroom, and Sabrina squeezed her shoulder. They’d known each other for less than two hours, but evidently she was just that kind of tactile person. “Your job sounds so interesting, Triss,” Tissaia said when they broke apart. “I always imagined you doing something arty, not working in a lab.”

Triss seized the opportunity with both hands, not even caring that Sabrina was there. “I’d love to tell you more about it if you’d like to go for coffee sometime?” she asked, giving what she hoped was a mature smile, and not the deer-in-the-headlights look of a lovesick teenager asking out their crush. She couldn’t tell whether time had slowed down or whether she was just hoping it had, as though she was a romantic heroine about to kiss the love of her life for the first time.

But of course she wasn’t a romantic heroine and Tissaia certainly seemed to have no interest in playing the love of Triss’ life, even if Triss happened to think she might be.

Tissaia answered quickly, and with every appearance of being genuine. “I would love that,” she smiled warmly, “how about today, after school?” She clasped Triss’ hands. Triss’ heart began to race as her mind swan dived into the gutter. Oh, that touch. That voice. She didn’t notice whether Sabrina was still there or not. All she could see was Tissaia – her soft lips, the delicate lines at the corners of her eyes – and all she could think about was Tissaia – sliding her hand up a firm thigh, dipping between Tissaia’s legs and stroking her until she moaned.

“Yes please,” Triss murmured, surprised she could even summon enough of her voice to respond. She couldn’t push away the frankly sinful images in her head. Serving Tissaia, Tissaia serving her... She startled as Tissaia waved a hand in front of her face, her cheeks flushing the hottest red as she desperately hoped she hadn’t been staring open-mouthed or something. “Sorry, did you...?”

Tissaia smiled, and lightly touched her arm, maybe thinking Triss’ mind was still a little scattered from the stress of talking to the children. “I just asked if you had far to get home?”

Home? Tissaia wanted to take her home? No, Tissaia was reminding her that she needed to go home because there were still several hours left in the school day, and she had children to teach, she couldn’t just blow off her job to go and get coffee with a horny ex-student. Not that Tissaia knew she was horny. Hopefully. Oh, fuck. She needed to speak, say something, anything, so Tissaia didn’t think she’d fallen asleep with her eyes open.

Triss rubbed her eyes, trying to bring herself back to the moment. “Sorry,” she said, with a self-deprecating smile, “I get spacey when I’m stressed. No, I don’t have far to go, and I can get the bus.” It was time to leave before she embarrassed herself any further. “Okay, I should let you go and prepare for your next lesson. Uh, see you later?” Tissaia smiled at her, with a slightly mystified expression on her face. Triss frowned. What was she missing? _Oh_. “Right, we should probably agree where we’re meeting. I don’t...don’t really know this part of town very well, so you choose! And just, uh, I guess text me?”

Tissaia reached out to her again, squeezing her arm a little more firmly. “Triss, are you sure you’re okay?” she asked gently. “We can postpone until another day if you’re not feeling well, you seem like you can barely string two words together. And I don’t have your number, love.” After a second’s thought, Tissaia turned to her desk, nudging papers aside until she found what she was looking for. She hastily scribbled what looked like a phone number onto a purple Post-it note and handed it to Triss. “Text me and let me know if you still want to go, okay? I don’t mind if you want to reschedule. I know a quiet little place which will still be open by the time I’m finished for the day, so if you’re up to it, I’ll text you directions once I know you’re okay.”

There was absolutely no way Triss was going to let herself blow this. Even if she had to beg Philippa for a ride and end up covering her share of the washing up schedule for a month, it would be worth it to go for coffee with Tissaia. She marshalled herself and forced the most genuine smile she could manage while simultaneously thinking about ending the day in a tangle of limbs in Tissaia’s bed and also all the ways she could possibly fuck that possibility up. “Thank you Tissaia,” she said, taking out her phone, sticking the Post-it to the back of it, and trying not to stare at the fact Tissaia had added a kiss after the number. “I’ll be okay, I promise. I was nervous so I didn’t each much breakfast, it’s probably that.” She was about to continue when Tissaia pulled her into a hug, squeezing her hard, and she somehow had the presence of mind to hug her back.

Tissaia was smiling when she pulled back, but there was an undeniable briskness about her too, which had Triss feeling like she’d overstayed her welcome a little bit. It was stupid to be upset by that really; she was probably imagining it, and if she wasn’t, well, Tissaia did have a job to do after all. “Take care of yourself, and hopefully I’ll see you in a few hours,” Tissaia said, “Sabrina, could you show Triss out, please?”

Although it was by no means cruel or curt, Triss understood that as her dismissal, and it hurt more than she wanted to admit. But she had coffee with Tissaia to look forward to, as long as she hadn’t unknowingly just done something to blow it. Turning to Sabrina, Triss was struck once again by just how pretty she was. She was staring fixedly at a poster on the wall, as though trying not to intrude on an awkward personal moment, her head turned away from them to expose a pale, elegant neck which Triss privately thought would look good with some hickies on.

As though registering not Tissaia addressing her, but the silence which followed the end of the conversation, Sabrina suddenly shook her head a little like she was chasing away a daydream, and turned a full-wattage smile on Triss. “Sorry, I was miles away. Follow me, babe.” Without waiting to check that Triss was doing as she’d been told, she walked out of the classroom. “Are you really feeling okay?” she asked, when Triss caught up with her after an embarrassing little half-jog, because evidently Sabrina had much longer legs than Triss realised. “I can get someone in the office to call you a taxi if you need one?”

What Triss really needed was to interrogate Sabrina about Tissaia. Was she seeing anyone? If she wasn’t, how long was it since her last relationship ended? Did she still enigmatically refer to her lovers as her ‘partner’ rather than give any hints about her sexuality? Had she ever mentioned what kind of flowers she liked? But as she tried and failed to find the words to ask her questions in a non-creepy way, Sabrina carried on, evidently someone who couldn’t bear silence.

“Tissaia is amazing, isn’t she?” she sighed, and Triss kept her gaze fixed forward, trying not to react, because she recognised Sabrina’s wistful tone as the one she herself had used many times when discussing how she felt about Tissaia. Surely she didn’t have competition for Tissaia’s affections? Fuck. “She’s just so...inspiring. She makes everyone want to be the best they can be, me included. I’ve learned so much from her already. I just really hope someday I can be as amazing a teacher as she is.”

Conscious that she hadn’t actually uttered a word so far, Triss made a concerted effort to reply. “She is. You’re so lucky getting to work with her every day as her equal, rather than as one of her students.” The tapping of her heels, which had seemed so sophisticated and mature to her earlier, now sounded annoying and like she was trying too hard, especially compared to Sabrina, who was still taller than her even in sensible flats. To distract herself, Triss carried on. “I swear almost everyone in our class was half in love with her,” she said, keeping her tone neutral and trying not to seem anxious as she waited to gauge Sabrina’s reaction.

Sabrina laughed lightly. “I can imagine. Young people are very impressionable, especially with someone as clever and generous and inspiring as Tissaia. I’m a little old to feel that way, though. I know there’s so much I can learn from her and I don’t want to waste a second of it by daydreaming about her. She is _very_ pretty, though.” They’d reached the entrance, and Sabrina checked her watch so she could write Triss’ departure time in the sign in book. “But I don’t think I need to tell you that,” she smirked slyly when she looked up again, pinning Triss with an intense gaze worthy of Tissaia. “Bye Triss, it was lovely meeting you. I hope I see you again soon.”

Before Triss could even react, let alone ask whether Sabrina meant what it seemed like she meant, she was staring at the back of a blonde head as the other woman turned around and walked away without a backward glance.

Between the lack of breakfast and the bone-rattling bus journey and the questions constantly pounding around inside her head, Triss arrived home with a bitch of a headache. Philippa blasting music loud enough to be heard in the street outside didn’t help matters, but to be fair to her, she did turn it off when Triss opened the living room door and all but collapsed down on the sofa without even removing her coat.

In fact, she seemed in a remarkably soft mood, fetching Triss a glass of water, a box of painkillers, and a packet of biscuits to nibble on without any complaint whatsoever. She even sat down on the sofa so Triss could pillow her head on her soft thighs, and stroked her hair soothingly. “Poor baby,” she murmured, alternating between stroking Triss’ soft curls and grazing her nails over Triss’ scalp, and despite the pain in her head, each gentle scratch sent a jolt of pleasure to her cunt. It really was unfairly easy to work her up, not that she really minded. Triss squirmed, and Philippa smirked, already knowing what she was doing to her. They could do this without it being weird, because after so many failed attempts to date each other, the physical intimacy of a relationship had become part of the language of their friendship.

“You’ll never guess who I saw,” Triss said quietly, her eyes closing, a soft moan slipping out when Philippa dragged her nails a little harder. “Tissaia de Vries. And please don’t stop, that feels nice.”

Philippa snorted. “That old witch! I’d forgotten about her.” She had a vague memory of a dark-haired ice queen, trying desperately to fail her and Sheala every week for the minor crime of not actually doing the assignments she’d set. And Triss practically wringing her hands with desperate adoration, like some medieval maiden. Philippa appreciated a sexy, commanding, and authoritative woman as much as the next lesbian, but there was something about Tissaia which just didn’t do it for her. “Do you still have a ridiculous crush on her?” she asked jokingly, sensing the answer she was about to get.

Philippa’s fingers stilled suddenly, and Triss opened her eyes again, about to pout about the loss of her touch. “Wait, you’re not fantasising about her playing with your hair, are you? Because if you are, you can get the fuck off me right now and take that nasty shit to your bedroom with you!” But she kept petting Triss’ hair anyway, possibly because she didn’t care and possibly because if Triss was thinking about Tissaia, it still wouldn’t come close to being the weirdest sexual thing they’d done together.

Triss sighed happily, turning a little and resting her cheek against the softness of Philippa’s stomach. “I’m not thinking about her playing with my hair,” she protested quietly, “but I did ask her out for coffee after work, and I need you to help me find an outfit that screams ‘fuck me madam’ without actually screaming ‘fuck me madam’.” She felt as much as heard Philippa’s laugh.

“You’re really going to try and seduce her?” Philippa asked incredulously, “fuck, Triss, good luck. Maybe I’m remembering her wrong, but I don’t think she has a seducible bone in her body. I’ll still help you find something sexy to wear though, mostly because if she doesn’t take you up on the offer, maybe I’ll get lucky tonight instead!”

Triss laughed, even though it hurt her head to do so. “In your dreams, Philippa. That ship has sailed.” It wasn’t entirely true, but she didn’t want to think about that when instead she could think about having her mouth on Tissaia, which was how she intended the day to end. She was refusing to acknowledge that she’d gone from hoping it would happen to convincing herself that it absolutely would, leaving no room in her mind for the alternative. It would be fine; Philippa would help her find a sexy outfit and Tissaia would get a chance to see her as more than just an ex-student, and everything would end well. “Thank you though. I just need to lie here a little while longer and then I’ll be okay. I refuse to let a headache get in the way of getting fucked tonight.”

Philippa let Triss’ curls spill through her fingers again. “Okay, Triss. Whatever you say sweetheart.”


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Tissaia text to say she was running late, Triss had already arrived at the coffee shop. True to Tissaia’s word, the handwritten opening hours on the door said it was open until 7, so they would still have plenty of time whenever she arrived. It was 4pm, and they had arranged to meet at 4:30, only for Tissaia to push it back to 5 because of the need to deal with some ‘situation’ which had arisen. Once again, it made Triss feel like a child. She enjoyed her work at the lab and she adored her plant babies, but there had never been an urgent situation which required her to stay late, because her job just wasn’t that important.

She fumed quietly over that idea for almost an hour, glad she’d brought a book with her to read, but very conscious of the fact that she was absolutely overdressed for a coffee shop on the high street. She was quietly, grudgingly grateful to Philippa for persuading her out of wearing the knee-high black leather fuck-me boots she’d been planning an outfit around, especially given that most of the other patrons appeared to be students in sweatshirts and jeans.

“Triss! Gods, I’m so sorry I’m late. When they say teaching is something new every day, I really didn’t expect it to mean the children find some new way to get in trouble every single day.” Tissaia stood before her, smiling wearily. Her hair was damp – evidently it had begun to rain while Triss was reading and ruminating on her outfit choice – and a drop of rainwater was running down her forehead. Triss wanted to kiss her in the rain, desperately. “What are you having?” Tissaia asked, “it’s on me.”

As much as Triss wanted to be mature, she couldn’t help but order a hot chocolate, since it was the only hot drink she liked. It didn’t seem like Tissaia would be much of a fan of Coke, and she wanted to at least try and give a good impression. At Tissaia’s prompting, she shyly asked for a piece of chocolate cake too, only realising after Tissaia had made her way to the till to order that between the cake and the drink, she’d likely end up as excitable as a toddler on a sugar high.

In the time it took for Tissaia to return with their order, Triss had pulled out a compact mirror and hastily checked her face for any streaks, flakes, or smudges – thankfully finding none – and fluffed up her hair a little. She offered her widest smile when Tissaia sat down opposite her, wanting to cut through the stress of the day and make Tissaia feel relaxed and valued.

“I still can’t believe this,” Tissaia smiled back as she shrugged out of her wet coat, leaving it to hang, dripping, from the empty chair at her side. “You’re the last person I’d have expected to see offering to give a talk to students, Triss. Not that you’re not capable, of course – you handled yourself amazingly well today – but just because you were always so shy.”

Tissaia handed Triss her plate of cake, and she tried not to gasp when their fingers brushed lightly. To distract herself, she looked down briefly and saw that Tissaia had ordered some annoyingly healthy-looking thing with oats and raisins and, too late, wished she’d simply said she’d have whatever Tissaia was having, to save herself any embarrassment at her own order. But as she gave it a second look, she realised it probably contained nuts, and since she was allergic, that would have been a very stupid move. Much better to look childish with a huge slab of chocolate cake than end up in anaphylactic shock just because she’d wanted to look sophisticated.

Tissaia followed her gaze, somehow knowing Triss’ thoughts instinctively. “Don’t look embarrassed, I’m actually thinking how much I’d prefer what you’ve got right now,” she said with a rueful smile. “I need it after the day I’ve had.”

Wordlessly, Triss grabbed Tissaia’s plate and pulled it closer. She roughly cut her piece of cake in half, a relatively difficult task given the fact she only had a fork, which was neither sharp nor straight enough to cut well, relocated one half onto Tissaia’s plate, and pushed it back to her. “There you go. It’s not like I need to eat an entire piece of cake anyway.” She hoped Tissaia would make a comment about how she was perfectly attractive as she was and had no need to worry about her figure, but she didn’t. She was too busy digging into her cake, as though worried Triss might change her mind and ask for it back.

Outside of school, Tissaia seemed different, softer. It made sense – teaching was not for the gentle and vulnerable, so of course she had a stricter ‘teacher’ persona she used, but equally, she was far too nice to use that attitude in her life outside of work. Still, one thing which remained was the feeling she could inspire anyone to do anything, whether that was donating to charity or giving up smoking and running a 5k. She had the kind of timeless beauty which could inspire medieval knights to compete in a tournament for her honour, or encourage men to go to war as long as they had the reassurance that she’d be there waiting for them when they returned. Triss understood the feeling; she wanted to do something grand and romantic too. Instead, for now, she settled for eating her cake.

“So, are you, Philippa, and Sheala still best friends and causing trouble wherever you go?” Tissaia asked, smiling good-naturedly. “Well, not so much you. You were always very well behaved, if a little distracted, in my classes. But Philippa and Sheala... I still have nightmares about them! No, you may not repeat that.” Tissaia flushed a little, and brushed her hair back from her face, a sweet, nervous gesture Triss had never seen before, and which she quickly came to realise happened whenever Tissaia accidentally revealed something too personal.

Triss was a little disappointed that, despite having wanted to hear about her job, Tissaia had started off by talking about her friends instead, but she swallowed that feeling to respond. They had plenty of time, after all. “Sheala not so much. She moved away to get her PhD and never came back, not that I blame her. We talk on the phone a lot, but if I want to see her, I have to go to her. She refuses to come here. Philippa and I are housemates so yes, we see a lot of each other. She’s calmed down a lot now. And she still remembers you.” It seemed like a good idea to avoid repeating exactly what Philippa had said when reminded of Tissaia’s existence. “We tried dating, but it...wasn’t a good match. I want someone older, more mature. Philippa might have changed a little bit, but not that much!”

Tissaia laughed lightly into her tea cup. “ _That_ sounds like the Philippa I remember. Well, you make sure to give her my best, Triss, even if she doesn’t want it!” She put her cup down, and looked intently at Triss in a way which made the rest of the world seem to melt away. This was it, this was what Triss had been waiting for. Tissaia was going to ask if she was seeing anyone, and Triss would say no, and Tissaia would ask if she wanted to be, and Triss would say yes, and Tissaia would ask if she had her eye on anyone, and- “Triss? Are you okay?”

Shit. What had she missed? Triss fumbled for her words, any words, managing after what seemed like an eternity to say, “yeah, sorry, what?”, which was not exactly the level of eloquence and sophistication she’d intended to paint herself as possessing. Tissaia was looking at her with some concern, and more than anything else, Triss wanted to just slide down beneath the table and hide there forever.

Tissaia was looking down at her plate, evidently sensing that Triss needed a moment to collect herself. When the silence began to waver on the line between comfortable and awkward, she looked up again. “I was just asking you to tell me about your job. How did you get into it? Was it all thanks to your, well, _plants_?” She flashed a brief smile. Triss wondered whether Tissaia actually disapproved of her having spent so much of her time growing marijuana when she was a student, and not bothering to hide that that’s what she was doing. Still, she didn’t do that any more, and if she did, she’d have stopped in a heartbeat. After all, it wouldn’t be good for Tissaia’s reputation as a teacher to be found living with someone who was growing weed.

But first things first, she had to make a much better effort to listen, and respond, to Tissaia’s questions if she actually wanted anything to happen. “Yes and no,” she began hesitantly, “I obviously didn’t say that on my application. But the majority of my experience had been with one specific type of plant, yes. It was fine though, I got Sheala to-” she broke off suddenly, realising that she probably shouldn’t tell Tissaia that she’d asked her friend to give her a fake reference on her job application. Especially since when she and Philippa had done some drunken googling later, it seemed that could actually be considered a type of fraud, and therefore illegal, which had been a big contributor to why Sheala had changed her number and left town. “Anyway!” she continued brightly, you asked about my job, and here I am just telling you about the recruitment process. No one cares about that. So okay, it’s a bit hard to explain if you’re not as familiar with plants as I am, but bear with me...”


End file.
